


Tea Time Peril

by Mx_Maxie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dom/sub, F/F, Forced Orgasm, Mommy Domme, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Control, Overstimulation, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mx_Maxie/pseuds/Mx_Maxie
Summary: Sit still, sit up straight. Look pretty, look lovely. That's a good doll, always so perfect for Mommy.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Kudos: 106





	Tea Time Peril

The satin sits pretty and prim against her skin, brushing so nice where it touches, falling so lovely where it spills. Mommy had said it suited her, this dress, this colour. A sweet baby pink for her sweet baby, and a pretty dress for her pretty doll. Mommy had said that, but she thinks, perhaps and in fact, that Mommy is the loveliest.

Sat across from her, sat across the table, lips so red and dress so black, she could be a Queen, she could be a Goddess. And, when Mommy smiles at her, smiles around the rim of her china cup, she most certainly feels blessed. Though, when the buzzing-fuzzing toy shifts deeper, shifts just right, ( _ right there please! _ ) she’s certain she’s cursed. 

Oh but what a lovely curse. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, darling?” Mommy asks, eyes so bright and dancing with wicked affection. 

She asks because it’s a part of the game, part of the terrible, unfair, delicious,  _ so good _ game they’re playing. The one where she sits with her back straight and her face made up so nice and looks like a lovely little doll for Mommy’s viewing pleasure while a toy buzz-buzz-buzzes away inside of her. Brushing and shushing against that one spot that makes her clit  _ throb  _ and her head  _ pound _ . 

With the need to cum. Please, please let her cum, she’ll be a good girl, such a perfectly good girl.

“Yes Mommy,” she whispers, nearly breathless and nearly numb. Everything just feels soo good, and she can’t focus on the individual goodness. The trembles in her thighs, as the vibe spikes up and squeezes the air out of her lungs, no, no she can’t think about that. 

The bite of silk around her wrists then? Gentle, of course, because Mommy didn’t want to bruise her baby doll, but secure, so-so secure. She wasn’t going anywhere, not a chance. But. She can’t think about that either. No, no. 

Alright but what about--

“Open, sweetheart,” Mommy purrs, and she gasps a ragged breath. Staring at Mommy so close, the swell of her breasts, right in front her face, almost spilling out of the bodice. Snaps her gaze up to the indulgent smile she’s being given, a smile and a cup rim, cool china against her perfectly pink lips. 

Her body does as its told before her traitor brain can question it, and she’s swallowing down a mouthful of warm tea, sweet she thinks, milky maybe. Then another mouthful, as the cup tips and delicate fingers keep her chin tilted up, drinking-drinking until she’s drunk every last drop. Until there’s a smear of tea on her lips and dripping from the corner of her mouth.

“Tsk, messy baby,” Mommy tutts, smiling still, and swoops down for a kiss. With her head still tilted precisely up, with her thighs still trembling-shaking-quaking.

The kiss is grounding, pinning her down here and now and _ right here _ . Where Mommy’s got her jaw held tight and her back arching against the pleasure as the tongue in her mouth licks away every drop and drip of tea. Devouring her, drinking her down, until the burn in her blood is an ache in her chest and the kiss breaks with a desperate gasp of breath. 

Until she’s shivering-shuddering-panting and blinking up at Mommy with teary eyes and a face so imperfectly made up. She can tell, all the hard work Mommy put into making her the perfect doll, it’s all ruined. Her lipgloss’s smeared around her mouth and her mascara is running, even her foundation is blotchy, but Mommy...Mommy’s cooing down at her, cupping her cheek.

A thumb strokes along her cheekbone and she nestles into the touch, desperate for it as the vibe kicks up one notch more. One setting higher until it’s jingle-jangling her bones and her clit is twitching,  _ aching  _ with the need to cum please,  _ please, please,  _ **_please_ ** . 

No! No, no, no, no, no cumming without permission. Good girls can’t. They shouldn’t. And she was...she had to be good. She--

“Does my pretty doll wanna cum?” Mommy asks, voice low and dark and dragging right along her clit. 

“Does she wanna make a fucking mess all over herself?” so pretty and sing-song, teasing her, taunting her.

“Yes,” she breathes and gasps and moans, “yes please Mommy. Yes,  _ yes, _ **_yes!_ ** _ ” _

Because she can barely hold it, hardly keep it. Her hips are twitching, rocking, anything to grind down on the vibe that’s turning her thoughts to mush and making her pant so hard. She’s gasping for breath, desperate for it, like she can’t get a whole lungful of it, because she’s burning up and burning out and she’s right there please, please.

“Sweet doll, you’re so good to ask permission,” Mommy coos at her, leaning in close again to kiss her trembling lips, to swallow her breathy little whimpers. And to hold her down, in her seat, when the vibe pulses in her, pulses  _ jusst  _ right and zings up her spine.

A hand on her cheek, a hand on her hip, holding her, holding her. Stopping her from jerking out of her seat.

“Yes you may darling, go ahead and cum for me,” Mommy says, against her lips and just barely loud enough to hear over the rushing in her ears. But she does hear. She does. She does. She does.

And she’s a good girl, a perfect doll. She does what her Mommy says, because she’s so good, so perfectly good. So she cums, jerking in her seat and back arching a perfect bow. So she cums, mewling against Mommy’s mouth and all over her pretty doll dress. So she cums, and she comes down, hummingbird heartbeat fluttering in her chest and the vibe keeps going.

Until she’s whimpering and teary eyed again. Making such a mess; tears creeping down her cheeks, drool snaking down her chin. But it’s good, it’s all so damn  _ good _ . 

“Good girl, sweet girl,” Mommy murmurs against her hair, petting her twitching thighs, stroking her oversensitive clit. Over-over-over again. Until she’s one exposed nerve, until she’s moaning desperately and cumming again.

And the whole world narrows down to that point, of her arching off the chair entirely and Mommy’s voice cutting straight through the haze of pleasure-pain-pleasure.

“Perfect darling, so fucking perfect.”

How long does she stay up this time? She doesn’t know. Not until she’s coming back down, and the vibe’s off, and her hands are untied, and Mommy’s wiping her face. Peppering her with kisses. 

“You did so good, sweetheart,” Mommy croons, kissing her palms, the pulsepoint of her wrists, “Always so good for me.” 

And she can’t speak, not yet. Can’t remember how to put the words one after the other, but she hopes, she really, perfectly hopes, that Mommy knows how much she loved it from her tired-happy-satisfied smile. And if not, then she’ll remember her words soon, and she can tell Mommy exactly how much she enjoyed herself. Like she always does.

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic that the commissioner was nice enough to share. And, as always, you can find me[@MMaximilla](https://twitter.com/MMaximilla) which is strictly 18+


End file.
